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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501640">Secrets, Lies &amp; Other Hidden Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedefinitionofendgame/pseuds/thedefinitionofendgame'>thedefinitionofendgame</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mother-Daughter Book Club Series - Heather Vogel Frederick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Best Friends, Book Club, Childhood Friends, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Post-Canon, Secret Crush, Unrequited Crush</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:55:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedefinitionofendgame/pseuds/thedefinitionofendgame</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome back! It’s been over twenty-five years since the original book club was formed, and now it’s started again, this time with the original book club girls’ own kids. It’s not going to be easy; Parker’s afraid to start at her new school not knowing anyone, Lizzie is determined to win over her crush, Gracelyn is struggling to figure out who she really is, Hannah doesn’t know how to tell her best friend that maybe they should stop being friends and Ella wants to make this year the year she starts being braver. And Riley, the first boy to join book club, is upset because he’s afraid the girl he likes will never understand the way he feels about her.<br/>Among the many mishaps, the original book club girls are starting to wonder if their kids are acting a little bit like them back when the club first started. And maybe they are, and closer than Becca, Cassidy, Emma, Jess and Megan would like to admit. This is the new generation and it's time to learn from mistakes, realize opportunities and be surprised which direction life takes, with maybe with a little book club magic thrown in.</p><p> </p><p>NEW UPDATE (finally!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Becca Chadwick/Theo Rochester, Cassidy Sloane/Tristan Berkeley, Emma Hawthorne/Zach Norton, Jess Delaney/Darcy Hawthorne, Megan Wong/Simon Berkeley, Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Don't Want Summer To End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well welcome! I know this isn't your "typical" story, but it's something. I have loved the Mother-Daughter Book Club since I myself was in middle school, and this year (the year I started this) I'm going to be in grade 12. Crazy. Anyways, I have always imagined their future children growing up and having their own mishaps and friendships, and this is just that. I hope you enjoy!</p><p>*all the original book club girls' characters belong to Heather Vogel Fredrick. But the new characters are all mine, as well as the the developed storyline*</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>~Parker~</strong>
</p>
<p>    “Three, two, one, cannonball!” I shout, taking a flying leap off the end of the dock. In the air, I quickly pull my knees up to my chest and make a large splash as I hit the water. The water drags me deep, until I release my legs and start swimming to the surface. I come up sputtering but smiling. “That was awesome!”</p>
<p>    “My turn!” My twin brother sprints down the wooden dock and leaps off, going for distance opposed to making a big splash. He dives into the water at least two meters from the dock. Treading water, I do my best to clap for my brother. When he surfaces, his bangs are in his eyes. Grinning wildly, he flips his hair out of his eyes and swims over to me. </p>
<p>    I turn my gaze back to the dock, where my best friend is waiting. “Okay go Ella!” I call encouragingly. Without second guessing herself, she goes for a running leap and cartwheels right off the dock into the water, landing gracefully feet first into the lake. “Woohoo!” I shout, waiting for her to surface. </p>
<p>    She breaks the water and in a matter of seconds, is treading water next to us. “Never gets old,” she says with a smile. “Man, I love summer.” </p>
<p>    “Me too,” my brother chimes in. “Can’t believe we’re going back to school tomorrow.” </p>
<p>    “And you’re not going to be with us!” Ella looks at me accusingly. I smile sheepishly. “Smarty pants,” she says, reaching through the water to punch me lightly on the shoulder. </p>
<p>    “Don’t worry, I’ll miss you guys too.” I smile, although it’s more strained than my brother and best friend think. Tomorrow is going to be a big change for me. While they’re starting the new school year without me, they at least have each other. I start the new school year knowing absolutely no one at my new school. </p>
<p>    My new school. It still sounds crazy to think that as of tomorrow, I can consider myself a student at Colonial Academy, the fancy private school in our small town of Concord, Massachusetts. While I know my parents could afford to send me there if I really wanted, I actually got a scholarship, which I’m pretty proud about. I remember the day we got the letter; almost four months ago exactly. Yikes, that day was tough. I was thrilled that I got in, along with a scholarship, but the thought of leaving my best friend almost made me want to turn the offer down. Luckily, as much as Ella pretends to guilt me for leaving her, she supports this amazing opportunity and can’t wait for me to “put my brains to good use” as she says. </p>
<p>    “Parker?” My brother looks at me. “You good sis?” </p>
<p>    I snap out of my thoughts. “Oh yeah, I’m good.” I smile, trying to prove it. “Wanna race to shore?” I ask, already heading off. </p>
<p>    Behind me, I can hear my brother shout, “Hey no fair, you got a head start!” I push through the water, stroke after stroke. I feel someone pass me, the wake of their waves crashing over my head. When my toes finally hit the sand and rocks of the lakebed, I stand up and run the rest of the way onto dry land. </p>
<p>    “Beat ya,” Ella says, already wrapping her towel around her waist. “And you got a head start!” </p>
<p>    I laugh and swat her with my own towel. “Not everyone has good athlete genes like you,” I complain. </p>
<p>    Ella raises one eyebrow at me. “Uh, you’re one to talk, Your parents are great athletes. Your mom still runs every single day and your dad skates at least four times a week. He even went to the Olympics. That’s gotta count for something.” </p>
<p>    “Haha, okay. Maybe you just got more of your dad’s ability to be good at everything.” I mirror her raised eyebrow and we lock eyes for a moment. Ella’s the first to look away, but only to flick her gaze to my brother, who’s just reaching the shoreline now. </p>
<p>    “Slowpoke,” she jokes, poking his ribcage as he reaches for a towel. “Really Riles, you should be able to keep up with us by now. We’ve only raced about a thousand times.” </p>
<p>    “Shut up Lella,” he shoots back, messing up her already lake-crazy hair. My brother’s real name is Riley, but Ella has special permission to call him Riles. It’s only her though. I used to, but grew out of that ages ago. My parents call him Ry, but Riles is reserved especially for Ella. Just like Lella is just for Riley (and her family) to call her. I call her Ella mostly, or El. They’re nicknames from our childhood, and we keep them to remind us of all the good times we’ve had. Technically the three of us are teenagers now; as of June 3 when Riley and I turned thirteen and July 28 when Ella joined us as teens. Still sounds crazy, even to my ears. We’re going into grade eight this year, which is why I’m starting Colonial Academy (it starts in grade eight) and Riley and Ella are about to become “seniors” of Walden Middle. Walden Middle is the school our parents (minus my dad) went to back when they were our age. My dad didn’t grow up in America because his roots are British. Although once he fell in love with my mom and after being in the Olympics, he moved here to Massachusetts, along with my mom. </p>
<p>    Speaking of my mom, I can hear her calling us from the picnic table set up a few yards away. “Riley, Parker, Ella! Dinner!” She shouts. I almost have to cover my ears, although realistically by this point in my life I’m used to her booming voice. She definitely gets her message across when she needs us!</p>
<p>    “Coming!” I yell back, gathering up my shorts and t-shirt that I discarded in the sand. Ella grabs her dress and Riley just throws on his t-shirt despite being still wet. Boys, I think to myself, rolling my eyes. </p>
<p>    We run the couple hundred meters to where our parents have set up the barbeque. Smoke rises from the grill, as Uncle Darcy, Ella’s dad, puts on more hotdogs. Darcy and his wife Jess aren’t really my uncle and aunt, but we see them so much and love them like family, so “uncle” and “auntie” stuck. Although Ella’s not like my cousin, if that makes any sense. We’re best friends which is loads better. “Load up your plates guys,” Auntie Jess says, handing us each a napkin and a paper plate. “Cassidy will be back in a second; she’s just gone to round up Jase.” Riley and I have a younger brother named Jase, who’s almost six. Ella also has a younger brother named Carson but his personality is the opposite of my brother. While Jase is all boy, using sticks-as-swords, getting into trouble and breaking my parents’ dishes, Carson prefers art. He likes to come to the lake to work on his drawings and hangout occasionally with us older kids. He’s kinda like Riley, in a sense; a lot more fun to hangout with than most brothers. I know Ella and him get along really well, just like Riley and I. </p>
<p>    “Thanks mom!” Ella gladly takes the offered supplies and spends only seconds putting butter on her hotdog bun, before being ready for a hotdog. Me, I take longer to add the ketchup, mustard and relish that I know Ella hates. My brother likes to bug her about having no taste buds, but realistically she eats as well as any of us. She just really does not like condiments. </p>
<p>    Auntie Jess brushes the hair out of her daughter’s eyes. “You kids have fun in the lake?” she asks with a smile. </p>
<p>    “Of course!” Ella hands her plate to my dad. “Two for me please,” she says. </p>
<p>    I hand my plate over too, with Riley’s right behind. “Same here.” </p>
<p>    My dad smiles and loads us up with two hotdogs each. “There you go,” he says. He turns to Uncle Darcy and nudges him. “You better start more, I see Cass coming back and we know how many she’ll eat.” </p>
<p>    “I heard that,” my mom says, glaring playfully at my dad. “You know I exercise like crazy and I need all the calories I can get!”</p>
<p>    “I know,” my dad smiles and leans to kiss my mom, much to the horror of Riley, Jase and I. </p>
<p>    “Ewww,” my little brother says, closing his eyes really tight. “Stop it!” </p>
<p>    My mom breaks away and lightly cuffs Jase over the head. “You’ll find it nice one day,” she says. “For now, wipe your hands with a wet wipe and grab some grub.” </p>
<p>    Jase still looks grossed out, as he takes his offered plate and napkin. I head over with Ella to join Carson on the picnic blanket. It’s a given rule that the adults sit at the table, and us kids sit on the ground. Our families have been coming here for years, since us older kids were probably three. We normally come a few times every summer; sometimes with our grandparents, sometimes with our real aunts and uncles and our cousins. We’ve even come with all of our parents’ friends before, the ones they knew growing up. I don’t like those get-togethers as much, because that means Riley, Ella and I can’t do our own thing. We have to be polite and include all the other kids, even the ones who aren’t so nice, such as Ella’s cousin, Lizzie. Lizzie-who’s real name is Elizabeth but no one ever calls her that-is a year younger than us but acts like she’s three years older. She’s really mean too, and is always bad mouthing Ella, and sometimes me. Which is ironic, because my mom said that Lizzie’s mom, Emma, was the one who was bullied back when they were kids. How ironic indeed, that her daughter is now the bully.</p>
<p>Anyways, Lizzie is besides the point I'm trying to make. No matter how many times we come to Concord Lake during the summer, it’s our families’ tradition to come just the nine of us on the last night before school goes back. The night before everything changes and we suddenly become that much older. I love our “end of summer” lake trips, but they always make me sad. I never want summer to end. </p>
<p>    “Carse, let’s see the drawing you were working on earlier,” Ella says, scooching up close to her brother. </p>
<p>    “Okay,” Carson replies, pulling out his sketchbook. “Here’s one of the lake, with Mom, Dad, Auntie Cassidy and Uncle Tristan in the background.” </p>
<p>    I lean over Ella’s shoulder to get a look too. For ten years old, Carson’s really talented with drawing. “That’s awesome,” I say. Riley takes a quick peek and whistles appreciatively. </p>
<p>    Ella side hugs her brother. “See, I knew you’d get the clouds right. Just gotta trust yourself,” she says, before taking a bite out of her hot dog. </p>
<p>    “Thanks.” Carson smiles at our compliments. “Will you let me jump in the lake after dinner with you guys?” </p>
<p>    Without hesitating, Ella nods. “Duh.” I nod too. Jase always manages to occupy himself (and five year olds need more supervision anyways) but Carson sometimes feels left out, as he doesn’t have a best friend here right now. He’s best friends with my cousin, Eloise, who is my Auntie Megan’s daughter. I also have a cousin who’s my age, Gracelyn (Gracie for those who know her), but she’s a grade younger. She has a late birthday so her parents held her back a year. She’s in the same grade as Lizzie and hangs out with her sometimes, along with Lizzie’s best friend, Hannah. Hannah is another family friend, but we don’t really get together with her much. And realistically, I only see Gracelyn at school and on the holidays, when our families get together. </p>
<p>    Over the rest of dinner, we tell stupid jokes and laugh. My mom manages to eat five hotdogs, which makes me sick to think about. Uncle Darcy matches her bite for bite, but has to give the last half of his fifth hot dog to Jess in the end. “I’m too full,” he says, rubbing his non-existent large stomach. Alike to his family in the way that they are really skinny, despite playing sports and eating a lot. Riley managed to inherit those genes from my dad, while I got stuck with my mom’s genes of muscle. I also have my mom’s flaming red hair while my brothers have my dad’s dirty-blond mop. I’d be jealous of them if Ella didn’t compliment my hair colour every day. She’s literally the best friend ever. </p>
<p>    Once the barbeque has been turned off, and the food has been packed up, our parents let us go for one last swim. We drop our clothes by the picnic table and take off at a sprint for the dock. The next half hour consists of crazy flips and dives, with the rest of us cheering no matter what. Even Jase joins us, and we help him improve his dive, which at five-almost six-years old, is really just a belly flop. At one point, Riley accidentally knocks Ella into the water, which makes her climb out and deliberately shove him in. This starts a pushing war and then a splash fight, which are highlights of the day. All too soon my dad is calling for us, and we trudge sadly up the sandy beach to where our parents are waiting. They’ve already packed the car and hand us towels so that we don’t soak the car as we climb in. </p>
<p>    Carson waves goodbye, before climbing into the Hawthorne’s truck. Jase just jumps into our van, which is typical. I say goodbye to Jess and Darcy, then wait while Ella fiercely hugs my twin brother. He messes up her hair and then stands to the side so I can say goodbye. Even if I know we’re going to see each other tomorrow, it won’t be at school for the first time in eight years. I start at Colonial Academy at eight-AM and Ella will be with my brother at Walden Middle. </p>
<p>    “I’ll miss you so much,” Ella says, hugging me tightly. “Call me the minute you get home and you can come over, alright? Bring your bathing suit, because I think a mud fight in our pond is necessary.” </p>
<p>    “Okay,” I smile, trying not to cry. It’s just goodbye for the night, so why am I feeling so emotional? I tell myself to snap out of it as I pull away from my best friend and wave while climbing into the van. We pull away first, so I watch from the back window as their truck gets smaller and smaller. </p>
<p>    It isn’t until I’m home and lying in bed trying to sleep that I finally figure it out. Tomorrow is when my life changes. Like my mom, I’ve never been good with change. It’s not just the summer ending and the school year beginning. It’s my whole new life. It makes me sad to know that I won’t be there with my brother and best friend, but like Ella has told me, I should be happy. </p>
<p>    So even though I’m downright terrified for tomorrow, I close my eyes and wish for sleep. Because whatever happens, I’ll only come out stronger, right? </p>
<p>    I still don’t know the answer as I drift off for good. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How did you like the first chapter? </p>
<p>I'm not sure how often I will be able to update, but I will try to have the next chapter out before the end of the month. We'll see how my schedule goes though, especially since I have 3 younger siblings all ages 2 and under (there's twins in case you wondered how that was possible). But I'll definitely try my best!</p>
<p>Also, here is a list of the characters/their families introduced in the first chapter: </p>
<p>Jess Delaney married Darcy Hawthorne and they have 2 children: Ella who just turned 13 (birthday is July 28) and Carson who is 10<br/>Cassidy Sloane married Tristan Berkeley and they have 3 children: Riley and Parker are twins and are 13 (birthday is June 3), and Jase is five turning six near the end of the year.<br/>Emma Hawthorne married (to be announced!) and they have 3 children: so far you only know about Elizabeth who is normally called "Lizzie" (and will be for the rest of the story unless she's in trouble) who's 12.<br/>Megan married (to be announced!) and they have 4 children: so far you only know about Gracelyn (who is more commonly called Gracie; in this story she will be called either Gracelyn or Gracie) who is 13 but in the same grade as Lizzie and Eloise who is 10 (Carson's age).</p>
<p>Hope this clears up some questions you might have! I will add other characters to this list as we progress further and shorten the list to a more basic standard once you know the new characters better. </p>
<p>Please leave a comment if you have time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. My Best Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well I got the second chapter up before the end of the month...on the last day of the month :)</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>~Hannah~</strong>
</p><p>I hate having a brother.</p><p>This may come as a shock, but little brothers are annoying, pests and definitely do not have any manners. My brother is no exception, and despite the fact he'll be turning six in just over a month, that does nothing to his maturity. Sure, he's five, so I should cut him some slack. But let me just say, at five years old, I had some manners at least. Like right now, for example. It's the first day of a new school year and I was up and ready when my mom called for me to come get some breakfast. Ben, however, had to have Dad drag him downstairs, where he proceeded to blow bubbles in his milk glass. Ew. I have to agree with my best friend, Lizzie, that little brothers are the worst. She would know, as she not only has one little pesky brother, but two!</p><p>"Hans, you ready to hit the road?" My dad asks, coming into the kitchen swinging his keys. He's not dressed up or anything because why would he need to be? His job is to spend all day at the zoo talking to poor kids about the joys and wonders of snakes; not! Being his kid means I have to hear the snake lectures 24-7, not just for half an hour on a school trip to the Boston Zoo. I probably know more about snake skeletons that anyone knows about anything. Yeah, I have a bit of a problem.</p><p>Eager to get to school and away from my brother, I nod, jumping off the bar stool. "Yep!"</p><p>My mom comes into the kitchen just now too, and smiles as she sees what I'm wearing. "Love the fashion choice Hans," she comments with a smile.</p><p>Pleased, I smile back at my mom. My mom's best friend, Megan Wong designed the outfit I'm wearing; a pleated burgundy skirt, white scoop-neck t-shirt and strappy black sandals. The perfect seventh grader outfit, in my opinion. Megan sends us free stuff all the time and us girls of the household are the only ones who seem to take advantage of the gifts. Ben only wears clothes that have a million holes in them, and my dad is forced to wear the hideous zoo-worker outfit. Too bad. I would rather die than wear what my poor father has to wear; beige khakis and a green polo with the words "SNAKE CHARMER" embroidered on the front. Yikes. Lizzie's made a few comments about the outfit before, and while I've never said out loud that I agree, in my head I'm always nodding.</p><p>That's the thing about Lizzie; she always says what you want to say. The problem with that, however, is that sometimes it's not always nice. I may be starting grade 7 today but I'm not blind to the stuff that Lizzie says sometimes. For someone who's mom is really nice, she can be a real piece of work, as my dad has mentioned before. I try not to listen to his comments, which he doesn't make often, but he's not wrong either. Lizzie's my best friend, but even I get tired of her snotty comments. They just aren't kind.</p><p>I look up from grabbing my backpack off the floor to see my dad kissing my mom. "Yuck," I say, turning away. While I may obsess over boys at school and may even hope I get my first kiss this year, there's always going to be something disgusting about watching your own parents making out.</p><p>My mom laughs and pulls me into a hug. "You're going to rock seventh grade, honey. I can't wait to hear all about it. Wait outside for me after school, alright? I have to pick up Ben first." Emerson Elementary, where my brother goes, gets out ten minutes earlier than Walden Middle today, for some stupid reason. Which means I have to wait for my mom to get Ben first, before she can come pick me up. My dad doesn't get home until dinner time, which is why my mom's the one who picks us kids up.</p><p>"Okay, I will." I swing my backpack onto my shoulder. "Bye!" I call over my shoulder, following my dad to the front door.</p><p>I hear Ben yell something incomprehensible over his shoulder. Rolling my eyes, I slam the front door behind us and jump into the backseat of my dad's SUV. The air is crisp and even though it's still warm, I shiver slightly. My dad backs out of our driveway and points the car towards Walden Middle, fiddling with the radio. Silence washes over us but it's a comfortable kind of silence; unlike my mom, my dad is a silence kind-of guy.</p><p>He clears his throat once we get within a block of school. "Make good choices today," he says, his signature goodbye.</p><p>The car rolls to a stop and I quickly lean forward to press a kiss to my dad's cheek. "Always do Dad," I reply, then get out of the car. I don't look back as I walk towards the front doors. Seventh grade, here I come.</p><p>Homerooms for grade sevens and eights are organized by last name. In grade six, homeroom is more crucial because it's your first year at middle school and you need more access to your teacher. Now that I'm a seventh grader, I'm expected to know what to do. Of course, my teacher's around if I have questions but for the most part, I'm on my own.</p><p>Lizzie's already checking out the homeroom list at the front of the school when she spots me. "Hannah!" she shouts, waving me over. I shoulder my backpack better and race to her side.</p><p>"What?" I ask.</p><p>"You have homeroom with The Prince!" She shrieks at me, pointing at a random list. "Look!"</p><p>My gaze turns to where she's pointing. At first I don't notice it, but then I see my name, and a few below it is The Prince's. "Oh my gosh," I say.</p><p>"I know! You have to talk to him about me okay? Tell him that I think he's like the most talented person ever." Lizzie sighs dreamily.</p><p>I try not to roll my eyes. The Prince is Lizzie's crush, the guy she's been obsessing over since elementary school, it seems. Sure there's been other guys over the years, but Lizzie's heart has always belonged to The Prince, apparently. Me, I think he's definitely attractive, what with his piercing blue eyes and mop of dirty-blond hair, but he's not really my type. Plus, even if I did like him, Lizzie apparently has dibs. She has since she first met him in Kindergarten almost.</p><p>Instead of rolling my eyes, I nod encouragingly at my best friend. "Of course," I say.</p><p>"Great." Lizzie smirks. She flounces away and pulls me with her. I'm about to complain about Ben, when I hear my best friend sigh loudly. "Oh look, there's my idiot cousin."</p><p>I follow her gaze and spot exactly who Lizzie's talking about; Ella Hawthorne. Ella Hawthorne's dad is Lizzie's mom's brother, and Lizzie hates her. Personally, I think Ella is great, but I obviously can't tell Lizzie that. She hates Ella more than gum on the bottom of her shoe, and isn't afraid to state it. Ella probably takes the most mean words from Lizzie, which I feel bad for. One of the cons about being friends with Lizzie, I guess, I can't ever backtalk her.</p><p>Sometimes I really want to stick up for Ella, or at least tell Lizzie to stop being mean. She isn't always directly mean, but when it comes to Ella, the only word used to describe her behaviour, is cruel. I clear my throat, ready to make today the day that I stop her, but Lizzie is already making her way across the school yard to Ella. It's all I can do to catch up and hear when she has to say.</p><p>"Hi Ella," Lizzie says, making a face.</p><p>Ella, who's always polite despite the things Lizzie's said before, looks up and smiles. "Hi Lizzie, how are you? I like your dress."</p><p>This makes me glance down at Lizzie's outfit. I hadn't noticed that she was wearing a black spaghetti strap dress earlier. That must've been something she left the house in before her mom saw. I know Emma, Lizzie's mom, would flip out if she saw the length of the dress Lizzie has on. It's barely longer than a pair of shorts would be.</p><p>Lizzie is taken aback for a split second, before she rolls her eyes and replies, "Fine." Compliments always make Lizzie take a second to stop. "Anyways, I just wanted to say that you better stay away from him this year."</p><p>Ella, just like me, knows exactly who "him" is too. But, with her face the picture of innocence, she turns to Lizzie and says, "I don't know what you're talking about."</p><p>I try not to laugh. Ella is not exactly shy when it comes to her cousin. Sure, she takes the most mean words but they never seem to get to her. And while Ella doesn't backtalk Lizzie, she always seems to anger her nonetheless. I manage to stifle my giggles as Lizzie's eyes narrow at Ella.</p><p>"You know exactly who I'm talking about. Just stay away."</p><p>Ella shrugs. "Okay." Her gaze flicks over to where some of her other friends are. "Can I go?"</p><p>Lizzie isn't done though. "Also, I know Parker's starting at Colonial Academy this year, which means you're going to be without a sidekick. So stay out of my way, or else you're going to be sorry." She pushes past Ella, who just has a blank look on her face, and pointedly throws a look over her shoulder at me. "You coming Hannah?"</p><p>I shoot Ella an apologetic look and follow my best friend. "Lizzie," I start to say, once we're out of earshot.</p><p>Again, I'm stopped by Lizzie, who this time is shrieking. "Hannah, there's The Prince!" She says, pointing. I watch as he gets off of his bus, scanning around. "Think he's looking for me?"</p><p>I cringe. I'm sure Lizzie is the last person he's looking for, but I don't say that of course. Instead, I shrug, which could count as yes or no. "Maybe?"</p><p>"He's coming our way!" Lizzie whips out her lip gloss and applies it. "I look okay right?"</p><p>"You look fine." I quickly look down at the ground. Sometimes it's hard to be best friends with Lizzie.</p><p>Lizzie's all smiles for when The Prince walks by us. "Hi," she says, and I bet she's batting her eyelashes too. The Prince nods in Lizzie's direction, but doesn't say anything. He's too busy still scanning around for the one person I know he's looking for. Lizzie however, takes this nod as an "I love you" and starts to squeal. "Oh my god! He's totally in love with me," she says.</p><p>Before I can respond, I'm saved by the bell. "Gotta run!" I say, pulling away from Lizzie.</p><p>She grabs my arm and forces me back to her. "Not so fast. You'll talk to him about me, right? But don't get too friendly. He's mine, got it?" Lizzie looks me dead in the eyes.</p><p>I stare back. "Got it. See you at lunch," I say, then pull away again. I jog around the side of the building to where I know my homeroom lines up. Ms. Tracey is cool, for a homeroom teacher.</p><p>During homeroom, I don't make a move to talk to The Prince at all. Instead, I chat with some of my other friends, who aren't like Lizzie. They ask about my summer and I tell them how I got to watch my dad's snake molt another skin. They act grossed out right on cue, which makes me laugh. Their summers seem just as plain, and I'm smiling by the time the next bell rings.</p><p>The rest of the day passes smoothly, well as smoothly as the first day of school can be. Lizzie is ultra-popular among our grade, so during lunch she entertains our "squad" of girls. They want to hear all about her plans to get The Prince to like her. I just poke at my turkey sandwich that my mom made, trying to keep silent. Nothing's changed since sixth grade, that's all I can say.</p><p>Last period is free choice, something that sixth graders never got. It's only for seventh and eighth graders, because the two grades are combined for the "elective" they choose. Much to Lizzie's disappointment, I will not be attending textiles with her, where she ultimately reigns with most of the girls in our grade. No, I chose theatre, and I'm excited to try something new. The theatre class always puts on a play at the end of the year, so I have that to look forward too. Last year they put on Snow White, and apparently the same "Disney Princess" theme is staying, as the theatre director Mr. Jameson tells us that this year, Sleeping Beauty is going to be the spring play. I'm excited; maybe I'll get to play something cool. I think the evil queen would be really fun.</p><p>After giving his spiel, Mr. Jameson lets us mingle so we can start getting to know our classmates. To my surprise, The Prince is in this class as well! I completely forgot he was a theatre nerd. Last year he was one of Snow White's dwarves, which was a really good role for a seventh grader. It's almost a given rule that eight graders get the leads and seventh graders are stuck with ensemble parts or stage hands. I know my dreams of getting the role of the Evil Queen are really slim, but I hope that when auditions come around, I'll be prepared to blow Mr. Jameson away.</p><p>Class is almost over, when Mr. Jameson calls attention again. "I'm really looking forward to a great year with you guys," he begins. "Remember, I'll be evaluating your performance in class, and that will help me decide your role in the play this spring. WIth that, have a wonderful afternoon! I hope your first day of school was great, and I look forward to the coming year."</p><p>We all nod and clap. The bell rings, right on schedule, and everyone grabs their bags and starts to leave the room. I take my time, knowing my mom is gonna be late.</p><p>The Prince is also hanging back. He lingers outside of the drama room doors (they lead directly outside), looking around. He nods towards me as I pass. "Hey Hannah," he says.</p><p>"Hey," I reply. I've known The Prince practically since I was born. While we aren't good friends, or even friends really, we hangout at least once a year at family-friend get togethers. Both our moms, plus Ella and Lizzie's mom's grew up together, so we have yearly "hangouts". Although normally at those get togethers, Lizzie and I hangout together with our other friend Gracelyn, and The Prince, his sister and Ella hangout together.</p><p>I know who The Prince is waiting for. He's waiting for his best friend, Ella Hawthorne. Yeah, Lizzie's cousin. Another reason Lizzie hates Ella is because of her friendship with The Prince. It's stupid, yes, and totally unnecessary. But Lizzie is Lizzie and even she can't explain some of the things she does.</p><p>"You excited for the play in the spring?" The Prince asks.</p><p>I nod. "Yeah, it'll be fun!"</p><p>He smiles. "I know. I tried to convince Ella to join Theatre this year, but she refused." His eyes light up a little, when he mentions Ella, I can't help but notice.</p><p>"Haha, yeah," I don't really know what else to say. Oh I know! Lizzie reminded me of it this morning trying to make a dig at Ella, but I can use it as a conversation topic. "How was your sister's first day at Academy?" The Prince has a twin sister named Parker, who's six minutes younger. This might seem like a weird fact to know, but it's common knowledge for me, because Lizzie knows and tells me every fact she can about The Prince.</p><p>He looks over at me, surprised I remembered. "I think she liked it," he finally says. "She was sad to not start grade eight with us, unlike me, she's smart. Colonial Academy will allow her to put her brains to good use."</p><p>"Right." I nod, acting like I understand. And actually, I do.</p><p>We talk about basic topics for a few more minutes, before I notice my mom's car pulling up. "My mom's here," I start to say, right as The Prince notices Ella running towards us.</p><p>"See you later," he says. He waves at Ella and she waves back.</p><p>"Bye," I say, shouldering my backpack and starting for Mom's car. I can't help looking over my shoulder at The Prince and Ella, who are already talking about something that happened earlier. Clearly Ella's not going to stay away from The Prince like Lizzie told her. And why should she? The Prince is her best friend; she shouldn't have to stay away from her best friend just because her cousin told her.</p><p>My mom smiles as I jump into the car, buckling up next to Ben. "How was the first day of seventh grade?" She asks, starting to pull away from the school.</p><p>"Fine," I answer. I glance over at my brother, who for once is quiet. Normally he's loudly talking whenever I get in the car.</p><p>"How's Lizzie? And was that Riley I saw you talking to?"</p><p>I nod. The Prince's real name is Riley. "Yeah. He's in Theatre with me."</p><p>"That's pretty cool," my mom says, smiling at me in the rearview mirror. "Hey is everything okay honey?"</p><p>I nod again. "Yeah, it's fine." I honestly don't know what's bothering me. Maybe it's seeing Ella with Riley? But why would that make me upset? I don't like Riley-excuse me-The Prince.</p><p>I let Ben take over keeping up the chatter for once, staring out the window instead. We're turning down my street when it finally hits me. I'm not upset about anything to do with Ella and Riley. I'm upset with myself. Why should I let Lizzie walk all over people I actually like? Why should I let Lizzie dictate who I'm friends with and who I can't be friends with? It's my life, which means my decisions.</p><p>But how do I tell my best friend I don't want to be best friends with her anymore? How do I tell her that she needs to give me space to make my own decisions? How do I tell someone like Lizzie Norton to stop being mean? It's in her blood it seems, sometimes.</p><p>I don't have the answers right now, but I swear to myself that I'm going to try to find the answers soon. On my own or with help, I need to start making my own choices this year. Taking Theatre was the first step. Not talking about Lizzie to The Prince when I had the chance was the second step. Now I just need to figure out how to tell my best friend to stop being my best friend.</p><p>It won't be easy, but it's gotta be done. I'm twelve now and in the seventh grade, officially. Time for me to make my own decisions.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please leave a review/comment if you liked the story!</p><p>Chapter 3 will be up in July sometime :)</p><p>UPDATED list of the characters/their families:</p><p>Jess Delaney married Darcy Hawthorne and they have 2 children: Ella who just turned 13 (birthday is July 28) and Carson who is 10<br/>Cassidy Sloane married Tristan Berkeley and they have 3 children: Riley and Parker are twins and are 13 (birthday is June 3), and Jase is five turning six near the end of the year.<br/>Emma Hawthorne married (to be announced!) and they have 3 children: so far you only know about Elizabeth who is normally called "Lizzie" (and will be for the rest of the story unless she's in trouble) who's 12.<br/>Megan married (to be announced!) and they have 4 children: so far you only know about Gracelyn (who is more commonly called Gracie; in this story she will be called either Gracelyn or Gracie) who is 13 but in the same grade as Lizzie and Eloise who is 10 (Carson's age).<br/>Becca married Theo, and they have 2 children: Hannah who is 12 and Ben who is almost 6.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Just Like Mom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys, and welcome back!</p><p>I finally found some time to work on this story, and I hope that you enjoy my newest chapter. This one is probably my favourite so far. I introduce to you, Ella Hawthorne.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>~Ella~</strong>
</p><p>"Mom!" I spot our farm truck from what seems like a mile away and make a dash for it. It’s after school on my first day of eighth grade, and my best friend just got picked up by his dad, which means I’ve been standing here alone for the past thirty seconds. I don’t mind though; I got to use the thirty seconds to think for a moment which is something I haven’t been able to do all day. My teachers last year weren’t lying when they said eighth grade was going to be a lot busier than seventh grade. I’ve barely been able to take a breath all day, what with the craziness. In all honesty I love it, but I also miss the summer, with lazy days and long nights filled with family, friends and good times. I missed my family today while I was at school; my mom, my dad and my brother, Carson. Plus our four dogs who I consider part of my family too.</p><p>    My mom’s leaning up against the side of the truck, her hands in the pockets of her dust-covered jeans and her plaid shirt has a few scuffs on the sleeves. She looks happy and carefree, just as she always does. Her blonde hair that’s the same as mine is messily falling out of her single braid and there’s dirt on her face. I smile as I make my way towards our truck. I’m not ashamed of the way my mom looks and why should I? My mom’s beautiful no matter what she wears and if her hair’s brushed or not. At least <em> I </em> think so, and so does my dad, who tells her he thinks she’s beautiful every single day. </p><p>    As soon as my mom spots me, her face lights up. “Ella!” She says, swinging me into a big hug. “I missed you!” </p><p>    Even though it’s only been one day of school, it makes me happy to know my mom missed me just as much as I missed her today. “Me too!” I hug my mom back tightly. Then I toss my school bag into the bed of the truck and slide into the front passenger seat, while my mom rev’s the truck’s engine. </p><p>    “Ready for a fun weekend?” My mom asks, as she pulls away from Walden Middle. I nod, smiling. School is so weird because they make us go back for one day, just to have a weekend begin right after. It doesn’t really make sense to me, but oh well! Why dwindle over what you can’t change? I just go with the flow most of the time. </p><p>On the short drive home, I lean over and crank up the radio. My mom smiles and rolls down the windows so the breeze rushes into the car as the stereo blasts music. I belt out the lyrics to our favourite Dolly Parton song as the car makes the short drive home. My best-best friend, Parker, says I have a nice singing voice, but it’s really all because of my mom. She’s actually singing a harmony to the song while I messily shout the lyrics. Still, we laugh at the funny part of the song and the drive ends up going by even faster than expected. After the truck stops, I grab my school bag and quickly sprint into the house. "Dad, Carse, where are you guys?" I call, holding the screen door open for my mom who’s following close behind. </p><p>    I get my answer when Carson steps into the house from the backyard two seconds later. “Hey Lella,” he says, coming to give me a hug. He also gives my mom a hug, even though he just saw her. Most brothers are annoying to their older sisters, but Carson and I get along just fine. We hang out every day after school, mainly just messing around in the backyard with the dogs, playing board games or swimming in the pond. Carson and I swim literally every weekend, even in the colder months. We only stop swimming when it comes time for the water to freeze over and then we skate instead! </p><p>    The dogs follow Carson into the house and are eager to say hi to me too. They bark and jump around my feet. I pat all of them individually, then scoop up Lemon, my very own pup. My mom brought Lemon and her twin brother (whom we named Lime) home from the rehabilitation center she worked at a few years ago. They’re both King Charles Cavalier Spaniels; white with reddish-brown markings, which make them look extra adorable. I nuzzle my face into Lemon’s fur, and she licks my face. Smiling, I kiss her head, then put her down. “Hey Carse, wanna help me make cookies?” </p><p>    Carson nods, grabbing my school bag off the floor. “Okay. I’ll go put this in your room for you.” </p><p>    “Thanks!” Carson’s such a nice brother, at least when he wants to be. Sometimes he’s really bothersome but that’s to be expected with all brothers. I’ve heard all the stories of what my uncles used to do to my mom back when they were growing up. “Thanks! I’m going to say hi to Dad. Meet me down here in a few minutes.” </p><p>    My mom left the kitchen after saying hi to Carson, and I’m assuming she’s wherever Dad is. I pat all the dogs one more time, then head outside to find them. </p><p>    I find them in the stables that mainly have just a few goats and our horses, Delaney and Hawthorne. “Hi Dad!” I say loudly, hoping to interrupt whatever it is my parents are doing out here. It’s no secret that they use this barn to escape sometimes. In our family, we kind of have our own places that are “our own”. Such as the window ledge for me, the treehouse for Carson and the barn (mostly the barn loft) for my parents. It goes without saying that these spaces are kind of our own and we go to them when we want to be alone. </p><p>    My dad immediately pokes his head from the barn. “Ella! Hi sweetie!” he says, coming over to me a tight hug. “I missed you like crazy today!” </p><p>    I hug him back. My mom watches us fondly and fiddles with her braid, a smile tugging at her lips. My dad likes to tug on it whenever he gets the chance. It’s just something he’s been doing since forever. </p><p>    “I missed you too Dad,” I say. “Anyways, Carse and I are going to make cookies. You guys go back to whatever it is you were doing.” </p><p>    “Thanks silly girl,” my dad laughs. He ruffles my hair and presses a kiss to the top of my head. </p><p>    I run from the barn and head back into the house. I totally know that the stables is like my mom and dad’s “special place” and that’s fine with me. Apparently everything special happened in our family’s barn, every big moment. My mom actually grew up on this farm, and when her parents were getting ready to sell it for good, my mom and dad asked for it instead. My grandparents, Granny and Gramps, were more than happy to pass it along. Despite living in a smaller home (with way less maintenance) across town, they’re always over spending time with us. </p><p>    My other grandparents love spending time with us too, but it’s harder for them to see us, mainly because they live in England! My dad’s parents are history and literature buffs, and moved to England shortly after my cousin Lizzie was born. They come back to Concord to visit at least twice a year but it’s expensive to fly here, so I understand why they can’t come more often. I’m lucky to have at least one pair of grandparents that I can see on a regular basis. </p><p>    In the kitchen, Carson has already laid out the ingredients for baking cookies. “Can you grab the chocolate chips?” He asks me, as I go to quickly wash my hands in the kitchen sink. </p><p>    “Sure,” I reply. I’m petite like my mom, but still taller than Carson, which makes me in charge of reaching things. I climb onto the counter to be able to get the chocolate chips, which we keep on the top shelf of the cupboard. </p><p>    We know Mom’s recipe off by heart now. It’s been made so many times that I could probably eyeball all the measurements for the ingredients. Carson is the mixer while I add the ingredients carefully and make sure not to spill. Sometimes Carson and I will make cookies just so we can eat the batter. Mom and Dad help us eat the dough too, because there’s something amazing about fresh cookie dough. </p><p>    Today I’m making cookies to bake because Riley and Parker are coming over soon. We always hangout on the first day of school; normally they come right home with me. With Parker at her new school, it made more sense for Riley to bus home and get a ride over with Parker later. </p><p>    In the meantime, Carson and I bake cookies, and sample the dough. When the backdoor opens, Mom and Dad swipe some cookie dough as well. It’s too good to resist! As Carson’s sweeping up the floor, he looks at me for a second, grinning wickedly. I have no time to react, before he throws a small puff of flour at me, coating my hair and the t-shirt I wore to school. </p><p>    Silence washes through the kitchen. Then I reach out and grab a handful of flour, before getting Carson back. He shrieks, and starts chasing be around the kitchen island. He dumps some down the back of my shirt, which has me switching directions and chasing <em> him </em> now. “You’re going to pay for that!” I shout, though there’s a smile on my face. I love my brother despite his wicked sense of humor. </p><p>    As my parents watch me and my brother, I see my mom rest her head on Dad's shoulder, and he hugs her tight. They tried for years to have another baby after Carson was born but after a while, they gave up. I wished so badly for another sibling for years, though now that Carson’s ten, I don’t have much hope. There's medical reasoning for why my mom can't have more kids but I don't know what it is. All I know is that my parents love Carson and I very much, and would've loved to extend that love. I know my mom imagined her future life to be filled with tons of kids, maybe even as many as Megan has. She herself has two younger brothers, Uncle Dylan and Uncle Ryan. We see them sometimes, and our cousins, although they’re younger. And Uncle Ryan’s wife is pregnant again, with their third baby. I know my mom wants another kid, and my dad too. I guess that’s just not in the cards for our family.</p><p>    When at last Carson collapses against the kitchen counter, worn out after escaping my clutches, I take a long moment to survey the mess. Flour is everywhere, and on both of us. My legs are dusty and my blonde hair has flecks of white. “You look like you’re getting old,” Carson jokes. </p><p>    “Very funny.” I roll my eyes and attempt to shake my hair out. “Guess I should grab a shower.” I glance at my mom and dad, who are just shaking their heads in laughter. </p><p>    “We’ll see that the cookies make it out of the oven,” my mom says, “But cleaning up the kitchen is for you kids to do before Parker and Riley can come over. Alright?”</p><p>    I nod. “Thank you!” I gingerly pick up my backpack, careful not to coat it in flour as I carry it upstairs.</p><p>    My room is the same one my mom had. There’s a slanted ceiling on one side, and it’s cozy feeling honestly reminds me of the loft. I love my room because sometimes I pretend I’m my mom, especially when I escape out onto the back porch roof and lie flat. When Carson was three and I was six, he went through a stage where he wouldn’t leave me alone even for one second. It was sweet and all, but I needed some space. So my mom showed me her secret roof hideout and how to make myself invisible to short people wandering around in the yard. I like that my mom shares her childhood with me; it makes me feel closer to her, in a way. Sometimes I catch her on the porch roof too. She uses it to think, just like me. I don’t think Dad doesn’t know she goes up there, and if he does, he pretends not to know. </p><p>    On the farm, our family has “secret places” where we go for space. For Mom and Dad together, it’s the barn, especially the loft. Mine is either the roof or sometimes I go hangout in the shed and sit on the tractor to do some reading. Carson likes the small dock on the pond, and even though it’s open and not very secluded, if he’s out there alone everyone else tends to leave him be. Although the dogs aren’t good with personal space, so don’t expect them to not sniff you out.</p><p>Our family has four dogs; yes, four. Besides Lemon and Lime, we have Chaser, a golden retriever, and Storm, a german shepherd. All are rescues from the rehabilitation center my mom owns. She used to work there but since the owner passed away and left the center to my mom, she’s hired some people to work and she just oversees things. It’s more of a vet clinic now, the most popular one in Concord Massachusetts. Mueller Rehabilitation Center and Vet Clinic, the place in town is called. The vet clinic is where the business really comes in, and then other animals that are found hurt at the side of the road, go from the vet clinic to the rehabilitation property by Estabrook Woods. It's biking distance from my house, and before I started middle school and my schedule got busier, I used to go there often. There’s currently a caretaker living there to keep an eye on things but I know my mom is hoping someone will come along that’s more permanent. The property is nice, and has room for someone to start their own hobby farm, aside from the rehabilitation section. Maybe that’s a project for the new year.</p><p>I quickly shower and put my hair into french braids. My hair goes just past shoulder-length which makes for short yet cute, braiding. After I throw on a bathing suit (when Riley and Parker come over, I know we’ll be in the pond swimming for the rest of the night) and clean shorts and a t-shirt, I head back downstairs to start wiping the flour. </p><p>    The first batch of cookies are coming out of the oven, as I enter the kitchen again. The floor has been mopped, by Carson apparently. “He left you the cupboards and the counter by the sink,” my mom tells me. </p><p>    “Cool.” I quickly use an old towel to remove the rest of the flour dusting, and then head for the laundry room. I also remember that my floury clothes are upstairs, so I run to grab those as well. </p><p>    My mom’s helping herself to a freshly baked cookie when I return. “Still the best in the world,” she says, closing her eyes as she sighs. </p><p>    “Totally.” I snag two, and poke my head into the keeping room. “Cookie for you, Dad,” I tell him.</p><p>    He stands up from the couch and takes my offered treat. “Delicious!” </p><p>    I smile and dart back out to help my mom transfer the other cookies onto the cooling rack. “Can I call Riley and Parker now?” I ask.</p><p>    “Already done that,” my mom says, with a wink. “Actually, I have something to tell you.”</p><p>    “Oh?” I hoist myself onto the counter.</p><p>    Mom fidgets for a second, like she’s a bit nervous. Whatever it is, I hope it’s nothing bad. “You know how Cassidy, your Auntie Emma and all the other girls plus me had a mother-daughter book club when we were about your age?” I nod. It’s common knowledge amongst us kids about the infamous mother-daughter book club. My mom takes a deep breath, before continuing, “Well it’s been in the works for months, the idea that we would finally start the club up again. Since you girls are all just older than when we started the club.” </p><p>    I’m quiet, as I process what my mom’s saying. “You mean, we’re going to have our own mother-daughter book club?”</p><p>    “Yeah.” Mom nods. “Is that okay?”</p><p>    “YES!” I shout, jumping off the counter to wrap my arms around my mom. She’s a bit surprised, but hugs me back tightly. </p><p>    “Wow, had I known you would be so ecstatic, I would’ve suggested to the girls we’d start it earlier. I mean, the moms. Holy crap, I’m the mom now.” She laughs. </p><p>    Dad peers his head around the corner of the door to the keeping room. “What’s this about you being a mom?” </p><p>    “I’m not “one of the book club girls” anymore, I”m one of the moms,” Mom replies. “Wow.” </p><p>    “Well of course you are,” my dad rolls his eyes and comes over to press a kiss to Mom’s cheek, tugging lightly on her messy braid. </p><p>    I wait patiently for them to stop doing whatever it is they’re doing, and then I bounce excitedly on my toes. “Who’s in the club, what book are we reading and when is the first meeting?” I ask, very joyful. </p><p>    “Slow down honey. I’ll answer your questions one by one. All the original girls are in the club, plus their daughters. Which means, Lizzie will be there.” I freeze for a second, as I forgot for a second that if Auntie Emma was in the club, my cousin would be too. Lizzie is all bark and no bite, and her comments don’t bother me. It’s just sad that she has nothing better to do with her life other than bother me. Though her comments can sometimes hurt, I do my best to ignore her. </p><p>    I lift a shoulder and try to smile. “She’s my cousin, I was bound to be forced to see her more often anyway,” </p><p>    My mom hugs me. “That’s my girl. Don’t let a queen bee ruin your fun. Now, for the other questions. The book we are reading will be revealed at our first meeting. And that is in,” Mom checks the clock above the sink, “An hour!”</p><p>    “What?” My mouth drops open again. “But we haven’t cleaned the house! And what is everyone going to eat?” I look at the cookie sheets. We ate a lot of dough, which means the batch is smaller than what it is supposed to make. There’s not even really enough to serve as a treat.</p><p>    My dad, who has been hovering nearby, answers <em> that </em> question. “We’re having a barbecue, like we did last night with the Berkeley’s. Everyone’s bringing a side of some sort, or dessert or drinks. We’ve got the hotdogs and buns.”</p><p>    “I think Cass said she’s going to get Kimball Farm,” my mom adds. My mouth waters at the thought. Kimball Farm has the best ice cream in the entire world, I swear. The palace was around when my mom was a kid, and is still going strong. The business was passed down through generations, just like Half-Moon Farm. “It’s tradition to have ice cream at the first meeting of the year, after all.” </p><p>    “I cannot wait!” I beam at my mom. This is going to be epic! I quickly think back to the plans I made with Parker and Riley, though. “Is everyone coming to the BBQ?” I ask. </p><p>    “Yep! The younger kids and the men will leave us alone when we reveal the first book of the year.” Mom looks over at Dad. “Sound familiar?”</p><p>    “Almost too much so,” he chuckles. </p><p>    Even though I’ve asked enough questions to keep anyone happy, I have just one more. “Will Riley be in book club? I know he’s a guy, but he likes to read as much as I do, almost.”</p><p>    My mom smiles. “Of course. Cassidy messaged and said she asked him as soon as he got home from school. He didn’t hesitate to want to join, especially because he’s been joined at the hip with you and Parker since birth, practically.” </p><p>    I smile. A book club with my best friends, what more could a girl ask for? If the price to pay was to also have Lizzie Norton in the club, then so be it. Nothing could put a damper on my spirits, and they were soaring high. I can’t believe I’m going to be a part of the book club, almost the same one my mom joined when she was in grade six. Now, her very own thirteen year old daughter was in one. Time sure does fly.</p><p>    But I wouldn’t change it for the world. I can’t wait for this book club and everything else in between. It’s going to be epic! First meeting of the mother-daughter book club, second generation, here we come!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you didn't notice, I've created an almost opposite reaction to Ella learning about the MDBC-2gen, than the one her mom had many years earlier. Leave a comment if you have any theories or comments, as I love to hear from you guys. I have also uploaded this story on Fanfiction.net (just updated it now!). I also plan to post about it on my Tumblr in the coming weeks.</p><p>I'm honestly not sure when I'll be able to get another chapter up, as I'm in my final few months of high school right now. I write best when I have inspiration/motivation, which is why I randomly decided to upload a chapter today!</p><p>My best guess would be a new chapter every month. But don't hold me to thank, lol. Anyways, hope you enjoyed &amp; as always, thanks for reading.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!<br/>~<br/>Come say hi/ask me anything :) @thedefinitionofendgame on <a href="https://thedefinitionofendgame.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> or <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thedefinitionofendgame/">Instagram</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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